CURFEW? OH PLEASE!

Tiana

Three in the morning, and I was sneaking back into the house dressed like sin itself.

The lock clicked loud, echoing through the grand entrance, and I didn’t even have time to take two steps before a deep, dark voice cut through the shadows.

"Eleven. I said eleven."

I froze. Then I smiled. A slow, lazy, kind of smile. I turned around, leaning my back against the heavy oak door, crossing my bare legs slowly. My dress was short…black silk that barely covered anything, thin straps slipping down my shoulders, neckline cut low enough to cause accidents. My hair was a mess of dark waves, lipstick smudged just enough to look like I’d been doing something I shouldn’t, and the alcohol in my system made everything feel warm, fuzzy, and absolutely hilarious.

Anthonio Grey stepped out from the darkness near the stairs.

He wore nothing but dark green sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a plain white t-shirt that clung to every hard, defined line of his chest and arms. His hair was messy, silver and black strands falling over his forehead like he’d been running his hands through it all night waiting for me. His face was that hard, unreadable mask, but his eyes—ice blue, piercing, were locked on me.

“It’s three in the morning, Anthonio. Even the ghosts in this house are asleep.” I forced my voice to stay light.

“The ghosts don't pay the electricity bill. I do.”

"Relax, Daddy," I purred, dragging the word out slow and sweet. "The night is still young."

"Not in this house." His voice was low, every word deliberate. He walked closer, stopping only three feet away. "Rule number one. Curfew is eleven. Sharp. You agreed."

I laughed, a breathless, throaty sound, and pushed myself off the door, swaying slightly as I took a step toward him.

"I agreed?" I tilted my head, lifting my chin, eyes challenging him. "When exactly did that happen? Was it before or after you married my mother and turned this home into a luxury prison?"

"Before you moved back in," he said. "And you know the rules, Tiana."

"I forgot." I lifted my chin higher, daring him. "The almighty billionaire’s rulebook wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind when I left."

"Then let me remind you." His tone dropped, sharp and commanding. "You live under my roof, you follow my laws. No late nights. No dressing like you are asking for trouble. No behavior that brings shame to this family."

"Shame?" I giggled, stepping even closer until I was right in his space, until the tips of my heels brushed his bare feet. I looked up, way up, because he was huge, broad, solid…everything I definitely shouldn’t be noticing. "Anthonio, darling… everything about me brings shame to this perfect little family. That’s why you love correcting me so much, isn’t it?"

He didn’t answer. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as his eyes dragged slowly down my body, from my red lips, down my neck, over the swell of my chest, all the way to my bare thighs, before snapping back up to my face.

"Go upstairs," he ordered. "Now."

"Make me."

I reached out, slow and bold, and placed my palm flat right over the center of his chest.

His heart was beating fast. I could feel every thud vibrating against my hand. I let my fingers spread wide, feeling the hard muscle underneath. I dragged my hand slowly down, over his ribs, down to his stomach, pressing lightly, feeling the rock-hard abs tense instantly under my touch.

"You know..." I murmured, voice dropping to a purr, eyes locked on his. "You spend every single day in those suits. Big, heavy, expensive suits. Buttoned up to the chin. All stiff, all serious, all cold and scary."

My hand slipped lower, just brushing the waistband of his sweatpants, before sliding back up slowly, tracing the line of his collarbone, my nails lightly scratching against his skin through the fabric.

"But underneath..." I whispered, biting my lip, grinning up at him. "You hide such a great body. Such a strong body. It’s a crime, really. Waste of all that muscle. You should really wear less often. Much less."

"Tiana."

My name came out as a growl. A warning. He took a sharp breath, and his hands lifted, hovered in the air for a split second like he didn’t know if he wanted to push me away or grab me and crush me against him.

"What?" I teased, moving even closer until my chest brushed against his arm, until my perfume surrounded him completely. "Am I not allowed to compliment you now? Is that rule number two? No talking about how good you look?"

"You are drunk." His voice was strained, barely controlled. "You don’t know what you are saying."

"Oh, I know exactly what I’m saying." I slid my hand up his neck, my fingers tangling lightly in the hair at the nape, pulling his face just a tiny bit down toward me. "I’m saying that under all that money and power… you’re just a man with a body built to make girls lose their minds. And I’m saying you know it, too. You just like hiding it."

He closed his eyes for a second, head tipping back. When he looked back down, the blue was almost gone, swallowed by black desire. His hands finally moved, landed heavy and hot on my waist, his huge palms spanning my entire side, burning right through the thin silk of my dress. He didn’t push me away. He held me. Tight.

"Stop." The word was breathless, barely audible.

"Stop what?" I tilted my head, eyes wide and innocent, while my fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw. "Stop touching you? Stop telling the truth? Stop noticing how your pulse is racing right now?"

"I am your stepfather." He spoke through gritted teeth, every word an effort. "Your mother is asleep upstairs. In our bed. She is my wife."

"And I am standing right here." I leaned in, rising on my tiptoes, my mouth inches from his ear, my breath warm against his neck. "And you haven’t moved away once. Why is that, Anthonio? Why haven’t you told me to get lost and walked away?"

He let out a harsh exhale, his grip on my waist tightening, pulling me just a little closer—close enough that I could feel the heat of his body radiating everywhere, and I could feel the hard strength of him pressed against me.

"Because," he said, voice dropping lower, "I am trying very hard to be a good man. And you… you make it impossible."

I laughed, soft and wicked, and let my body press fully against his, my hands sliding down his arms, feeling the muscles flex under my touch. I looked up at him, at the silver in his hair, the intensity in his eyes.

"A good man," I repeated, dragging the words out. "Is that what you are? Because right now… you don’t look like a good man. You look like a man who wants to do very bad things."

"Go to your room, Tiana." He didn’t let go. His thumb rubbed a slow, maddening circle against my side that sent shivers straight down to my toes. "Before I forget every single rule I made."

"Rules are meant to be broken, Daddy." I smirked, my fingers trailing back down his chest, over his heart that was beating just as wild as mine. "You taught me that, remember? Everything you have… you got by breaking the rules everyone else followed."

"Not these rules."

"Especially these rules."

I leaned back just enough to look him dead in the eye, my chin lifted, my smile sharp and knowing. The alcohol buzzed in my head, but even without it, I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew exactly what I was playing with.

And God, I loved it.

"You know..." I whispered, voice heavy with desire, dripping with every forbidden thought I’d ever had about him. "For a man who is supposed to be my stepfather… you really are terrible at keeping your distance."

He opened his mouth to say something…probably another command, another warning, another reminder of who he was and who I was, but I didn’t let him. I moved closer again, my face right up to his, my lips barely an inch from his. My hands rested flat on his chest, feeling his heart hammering out a rhythm that matched mine perfectly.

"Ever told you you’re damn too hot to be step daddy."